


The Perfect Caster

by Seraviel



Category: Erfworld, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Magic, Strategy & Tactics, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraviel/pseuds/Seraviel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a gamble by a losing side. It was the last chance they had. The perfect caster Erfworld had ever seen.</p>
<p>Ron Weasley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the p̸a͏i̧n̕ was even w̢o͠rs͏e this time, ḃ̵͖͍͕̦̲̠̃̆̌ef̸̢̠̩͕̮̜͍̭͖̱͊̓̇ͯͧͮ̑͑͟o̤̗ͪ̃̓̉̐̊ͧ̍͡re҉̹̲̩̣̯͈͍̦͇͢͜͢ ̴҉͉̝͕̜̙̮͓̞͇̹͚̺̬́ͅI̸͏͜͏͈̦̜̩͙̬̘̥̞͉̫.̵̹̪̙̦̯̜͚̻̞̠͓̦̥͔̻̜̳̖̙͠.̸̷̴̭̮̟͎̜͓͢͡.̠̠͉̱̖͓͚̣͓̙̫̪̤̖͖͕͕͙͞͝ -

The first rays of sunlight made their way above the horizon, hitting the walls of the Holds. Newly-crowned king Luke, Ruler of Cabazon, stared south towards his former home. He knew he would stare the whole day if he didn’t focus on the task at hands, and the side couldn’t afford to lose a day now.

“Turn at dawn.” He said as he forced his mind on the present. “No enemies inbound.” He did not smile, turning to the caster at his side. “Cast your veil, Nick.”

The foolamancer nodded and starting chanting. Luke tuned him out, having heard that very chant in the last dozen turns, and made his way down toward the open courtyard.

Hiddy Holds was only a Level 1 city, and it showed. The courtyard was plain gravel and Luke’s boots crunched as he walked toward the casters standing before him. The walls did not cover the whole circumference of the city, leaving points of entry all over. Only the veil kept the side alive

“So, Casters, are we ready ?” He asked, looking at each in turn. He could smell the tension in the air. This was make-it-or-break-it turn for Cabazon, and everyone knew it. Regardless, all nodded. Lookamancer, Findamancer, Predictamancer and Thinkamancer. All but the Predictamancer were already linked, and she was the one would would be leading them.

“Then go, and may the titans grant us Luck.” The ruler finally intoned, and the casting began in earnest. "Antheum. Kōnan."

Cabazon had always been a Side powered by casters, and it remained so even now. With the retreat to the Holds, all they had left over were seven couchmares, less than a hundred infantry, a pair of trombleweeds and a single Level 3 warlord. That, and six casters. 

"Cefiro. Gaea." The trio intoned, their voices rising and falling in eerie symphony.

50 turns ago, Cabazon had nine cities and twelve casters. They were feared by all the sides around and the region was in a state of tense peace. Then the former heir to Cabazon turned barbarian, took a city by force and started a civil war. And here they were.

"Flonyard."

What his casters was attemping now was something never attempted before,to his knowledge. Sure, there were rumours of a perfect warlord operating on the other side of the world, but this was only similar. A warlord couldn't save them now.

"Allucaneet."

A caster might, though. That was what they were attemping today. A calling of the perfect caster, one who could save the side and return Cabazon to it's former glory. He didn't know what it would be... A shockamancer, able to destroy armies himself? A foolamancer who could have them infiltrate the city of Cabazon proper? A mighty Rhyme-o-mancer?

"Halkeginia."

Maybe even a retconjurer, if such a thing existed.

"Roshtaria. Märhaven. Narnia!" The linked casters yelled. There was a sound like no other before, which resembled 'Plot'. And there was a man standing between the predictamancer and the others, who hadn't been a moment before.

Tall was the first word that came to mind. He towered over everyone in the courtyard, and only the garrison's trombleweeds could have faced him without looking down. Red was his main signamancy, as his very hair was red and he wore a crimson cloak that fell down to his ankles.

Then he moved.

The man jumped to the side, rolled and came up with a wand pointed at their general direction. He had a single eye closed and the other partially so, like Luke had already seen on people with headaches. He quickly had a look around, taking everyone in.

"Boopy Boop" was his only answer.

Luke didn't need to ask if his casters had any juice left: it was evident they did not. As such, he was the only one who could act.

"Greetings, Caster." He said, moving forward. "Can I have your name?"

The wand went down somewhat. "Ron Weasley." The man said. "Sir." He added a moment later. 

Good, there was at least a little respect there. "I am Luke Woods, King of Cabazon. Could you follow me inside for a discussion? I have some things to talk to you about."

"Alone?"

"Indeed, alone." The King confirmed.

"My lord!" Haley, the side's predictamancer, interrupted. "He might..."

"I have trust in your work, Haley." Luke said, cutting her off. "Have the linked casters brought to the Magic Kingdom for unlinking. Waste no expense." He ordered, then continued sarcastically. "If he isn't able, the side is done anyway. I will risk it." He then turned back toward the summoned Redhead. "Let us go, Lord Weasley. My office is this way."


	2. Chapter 2

As a Level 1 City, the regent warlord's office was no better functionally or esthetically than any other in the city, save maybe a little bigger. "I'd offer you a chair, Lord Weasley, but I'm afraid I have none in your size."

The redhead flinched a little. "Please stop calling me Lord Weasley, sir. My family hasn't been noble in more than a century, and I keep thinking of my father when you say it. Call me Ron instead."

Luke smiled. "Former nobility is still nobility, and as a caster you are entitled to 'Lord' anyway. But, if you prefer it I will call you Ron in private. You may also call me Luke in such settings; I wasn't always a ruler, and the mantle lies heavy on my shoulders." He sighed. "Regardless, please make yourself comfortable. We have much to discuss before the turn is done."

Ron took out his wand and pointed it at one of the chair standing before the desk. "Can I?"

"Go ahead."

With a single word and a wave, the chair twisted upon itself and became a comfortably stuffed armchair in the proportion of his newest caster, who quickly took a seat. 'A Changemancer?' Luke thought. He could see his latest unit's stats, but they made no sense. For one, they did not indicated what type of caster he was. Second, he somehow had the Leadership special, which was unheard of in a caster.

"So, Ron." Luke started. "I suppose you are a Changemancer of some sort, based on the spell you just did. Master Class, Adept Class? Surely you aren't a Novice!"

The confusion was evident on the tall redhead's face. "Changamancer?" He said. "I have no clue what you're on about. I'm a wizard, an Auror-in-training if you want to be more specific." He took a deep breath. "And I have to say I have no clue as to where this is or who the lot of you are."

"I'm sorry then for not having introducted myself properly." The ruler answered. "I am King Luke Woods, Son of Beau Woods, Ruler of Cabazon. This side has been one of the major sides in the Fountain Peninsula for more than four thousand turns. However, a betrayal in the court recently split the side in two, and this city is now all that's left loyal to the former leadership of the side."

"We are now on our last legs, and have summoned you as a last ditch effort to turn the war around. The spell my casters performed was supposed to call to us the perfect caster, and here you are." King Luke smiled. "Now, please tell me what kind of magic you perform, as I will have to fit your abilities in my plans."

-

Ron Weasley didn't know what to say. He didn't understand everything Luke was saying, and what he did wasn't making sense. Him, the perfect caster? Preposterous. Harry had him beaten as an Auror Trainee, and Hermione probably knew more spells than he'd done actual castings in his whole life. It had taken him a long time to accept those two facts, but he had.

"I don't think I'm the perfect caster you hoped for." He finally answered, and found himself continuing. "As for what kind of magic, I'm best at DADA and charms, decent in Herbology, Transfiguration and Magical Creatures, and total rubbish in either potions or divination."

The ruler's face got more and more confused as he went on. "DADA? Transfiguration? Charms? I'm afraid I don't get what you're saying..." He said, then his eyes cleared as he visibly caught unto something. "You must be used to different terms than the ones we use here! Tell me, what is the spell you used on the chair?"

"Transfiguration."

"So transfiguration is Changemancy, which you claim to be decent at." The king continued. "What about DADA? What does it include?"

"Mainly offensive and defensive spells." Ron explained. "Stunning, disarming, distracting... That along with défenses against such spells."

"Shockamancy then." Luke said, writing something down on a sheet of paper. "Charms?"

"There's quite a list for that. Fire, light, illusions, levitation, animating stuff, mind spells... Basically all general use spells, come to think of it." Ron saw the ruler's smile go wide. "What about it?"

"How about juice?" Luke asked.

"Juice?"

"I mean..." The king started, then stopped to think for an instant. "I mean, you can hide a unit with magic, correct?"

"You mean like a person? Sure." Ron replied.

"How many times could you cast such a spell, as an estimation?" The ruler continued.

"Given enough time? Hundreds, probably." Ron had never taught about it, but even in the DA training sessions, where they'd been casting over and over, he'd never hit anything like a limit on his magic. Not even the Patronus Charm, reputed to be more than difficult, had tired him out.

The king's smile was now manic. "How about other spells?"

"Pretty much the same."

King Luke threw his head back and started laughing, big hearthy laughs that sounded more than a little bit insane. "Please report to Nick, my Chief Caster, in the courtyard. He'll find you a place to stay. And please thank the four casters that you summoned you if you see them. They delivered what they promised most efficiently."

As Ron was about close the door behind him, Luke's voice rose again. "One last thing: I've worked with casters all my life and met with dozens of them, so I know what I'm talking about..."

"In this land, you are amongst the greatest casters living without a doubt."


	3. Chapter 3

Ron Weasley apparated to the courtyard as soon as the door closed behind him. He didn't get what was going on, and didn't like a few of the things he'd realized.

He especially didn't like the fact that he was nowhere close to home, and that, worse of all, he found himself obeying Luke's orders without realizing it. He'd thought for a second about the Imperio, but this effect didn't have the same feeling as False Moody's spell from his fourth year. The Imperio felt like bliss and happiness, while this simply felt like the normal way to go.

Even now he was looking for the Chief Caster Luke had spoken about. Hopefully another caster would be able to answer his questions.

The courtyard was nearly empty, and Ron somehow knew the few people there weren't what he was looking for, so when a short-haired young man in a cloak came out of a stairwell, Ron apparated directly beside him.

"Titan's Testes!" The caster said. "What was that, Weirdomancy?"

"I actually have no clue." The redhead answered. "You Nick?" He was glad to see that his tendency to address someone as Sir seemed limited to the ruler.

"Yup."

"King Luke..." Ron couldn't stop himself from adding king. "Told me to come see you for a place to stay."

"You must be the guy the others were gonna summon." Nick said, then indicated the tower in the middle of the courtyard. "Follow me..." He looked at Ron bizarrely. "What kind of caster are you, anyway? I can see your Level and everything, but not your discipline."

"Discipline?" The redhead asked, curious. "Call me Ron, anyway."

"Well, I'm a foolamancer, which means I use Foolamancy, part of the Eyemancy class of magic." At Ron's still uncomprehending face, he continued. "Combination of both Life and Motion, bypassing Matter?"

"I don't understand." Ron finally said. "I think I'm not from the same world as you people." He sighed. "I meant, even though we speak the same language, I've never heard of Foolamancy, Eyemancy or Weirdomancy. Outside Flitwick, whose not fully human, you are the smallest humans I've ever seen. I've never heard of Cabazon or the Fountain Peninsula or anything like that." He finished with a sigh.

"But you were popped on Erf, correct?" Nick asked.

"Popped? Erf?"

Nick sighed and dropped his head in his hands. "Where do come from, then?"

"London, England." Ron answered. He was surprised to see no recognition in his fellow caster's eyes. "Europe? Earth?" He finally added.

"Never heard of that side... Who was your king?"

"Magical England never had a king." Ron replied.

"An Overlord, then?"

"No, a minister. Last I heard, Kingsley was temporary minister until an election could be done."

"What's an election?" Nick finally asked as the two casters made their way in the tower.

It took a while for Ron to explain the concept, especially since the foolamancer seemed to have no idea what voting was. By the time the redhead was done, the pair of them were standing in front of a door.

"You may be right about coming from another world..." Nick finally answered. "I've never heard of this democracy you talk about, and I'm not sure it's even possible on Erf." He then pointed toward the door. "Well, this is your room. I'm sorry to say that most of the furniture won't fit your size, but it's the best we have left."

"I'll take care of that." Ron said, stepping inside. He first transfigured the bed into something similar to his former bed in Gryffindor Tower, then turned the chair into the armchair from before and enlarged the desk to match. He wouldn't have much space to move, but outside of that it would be comfortable.

"You're a skilled Changemancer, at the very least." Nick said. "Can you do other magics as skillfully?"

"I'm actually better at other spells." He took a seat in the armchair. "Tell me how magic works here."

"Magic on Erf is divided into eight classes each containing three disciplines." Nick started explaining, taking a seat on Ron's bed. "Each class mixes none, some or all of the three elements, which are Life, Motion and Matter. For example, what you just did here is classed as Stuffamancy, which is the element of matter alone."

"Each class is divided into three disciplines based on which of the three axes it follows: Erf, Fate or Numbers." He continued.

"Numbers?"

"The hidden values behind the world." The Chief Caster explained. "To follow the previous example, Changemancy is Fate-aligned Stuffamancy, as you've change the fate of these items."

"Explain that." Ron interrupted. "I don't understand what you mean by fate."

"Well, they didn't fit you, correct?" Ron nodded. "So their fate, which included 'not fitting you', was changed into 'fits you'. The other disciplines of Dirtamancy, which is Erf aligned."

"Let me guess..." The redhead spoke. "Moving the ground and stuff like that?"

"Exactly. It also includes building cities or creatures out of raw earth, mining and other similar abilities." Nick said, smiling. "On the Number axis, however, we have Dittomancy, whose basic ability is multiplying simple objects."

"Like the Gemino Curse, then." Ron exclaimed.

"I'm sorry?" Nick said, tone questioning.

Stepping out of his chair, Ron cast said charm at it. A second identical one appeared beside the first, further limiting the space in the room. The redhead quickly dispelled it, but not before Nick had a good look at the results.

"Yes, like that." He smiled. "You are quite a caster to be able to cast spells outside your discipline so easily. Doesn't one of those two spells use out more juice?"

"King Luke used that word too, but I don't actually understand it." Ron said, then quickly added. "Juice, I mean."

"How to explain it..." Nick started. "It's the energy we casters use to make and cast spells. Mathamancers probably know the exact values, but every caster has an idea of how much juice they have left to cast,and how much it would take for a specific spell."

"So, if you cast spells over and over, you would run out of juice, correct?" Ron asked.

"I am already out of juice, after the massive veil I pulled over the city, but you have understood the concept correctly."

"A veil, as in... An illusion? Over the entire city?" Ron's eyes grew wide. This place wasn't that large for a city, but it was still around the size of Hogwart's Castle. An illusion that size was enormous. "I couldn't do something like that."

"You're not a foolamancer, then." Nick said, smiling.

"I could, however, do smaller illusions." Ron added.

"Show me." Nick said. "Do an illusion of me, say, at the foot of the bed."

Ron nodded, then withdrew his wand. A wave later, an exact copy of Nick could be seen at the spot the foolamancer had specified.

"Very good work." Nick exclaimed. "How many times could you do something like that? It'll give me an idea on how much juice you have."

"As much as I want." Ron said. "It doesn't tire me in the least."

Nick's jaw went wide. "How about your other spells..."

"The same."

Nick's eyes went and followed, becoming large. Opening one of the drawers of the desk, he withdrew pen and paper before taking back his previous place. "Tell me every spell or ability you can do." He said, voice stern. "As Chief Caster, I need to know what you can do."


	4. Chapter 4

Chief Foolamancer Nick Woods looked at the list before him in awe. He'd known of the plan to summon this perfect caster, and even approved it, but this was not what he'd expected. He'd believed they'd receive a high level caster, probably master-class, of whatever discipline the Titans knew they needed best.

Lord Weasley was really an unexpected find. No actual discipline, but the ability to cast spells similar to more than a third of every known form of magic.

"And what did you call your class, again?" Nick asked. "What type of work you did..."

"My job? Auror. Basically law-enforment, along with fighting criminals and terrorists." Ron explained. "I was still in training when I arrived here, but already doing missions due to manpower shortages."

"I see..." Nick started, then felt his brother Luke end the turn. He surmised that the other casters were back from the Magic Kingdom, then.

"What was that?!" Lord Weasley said, jumping from his seat.

"Nothing special." Nick replied. "Our turn just ended."

The Redhead looked at him like he was insane. "What?!"

"King Luke ended our turn. The Bateman clan is probably moving now."

"Woah! Woah!" Ron exclaimed. "Explain 'Turn'."

"Well..." Nick started, then realized he had no clue how to explain it. "You know. Turn."

"I don't." He looked outside, where the sun was still shining. "The day's not over, so I don't see what it could mean."

Even though he'd never heard the word in this context before, Nick somehow immediately understood that day meant, in this case, the time between the start of your turn to the start of your next turn. "It means our part of the day is over. That it's someone else's part now."

"What do you means by part?"

"Well, moving, casting..." Nick started.

"You can't move when it's not your turn?!" The wizard rose from his chair and went to the door, opening it. "That can't be. I just moved."

"I mean between hexes." Nick explained. "Try casting something. The illusion from before."

Ron did so, to no result. "What?" He turned to his Chief Caster. "But, what happens if we're attacked?"

"That's different. In case of attack, defenders..." the foolamancer started, then stopped as he recieved a mental order from his liege. "I have to go, the King is calling me." He grabbed the sheet of paper he'd been using for notes and rose. "I'll come back later and continue our discussion. Feel free to look around as much as you want."

"You aren't afraid I might run away?" The Redhead said as Nick crossed the door.

"You have no move, so no. And anyway, loyalty would stop you, if that was the case." The foolamancer said from the corridor. "See you later, Lord Weasley"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick's Notes
> 
> Ron Weasley - Level 5
> 
> Move: 8  
> Hits: 7  
> Combat: 3  
> Defense: 3  
> Special: Caster, Leadership
> 
> Calls himself Wizard. Special Caster Class?
> 
> Claims no specific discipline
> 
> Says he has no limit to his juice. Need Testing.
> 
> Abilities:
> 
> -Various Foolamancy, limited in size  
> -Various Shockmancy spells, incl. Fire, Uncouns.  
> -Shockmancy Defense  
> -Various Changemancy of limited size  
> -Dittomancy Spell, limited to objects  
> -Animation of objects (Dollamancy?)  
> -Simple Findamancy spell, works by name  
> -Instant movement from place to place (Weirdomancy?) Max 1passenger  
> -Creation of object with above effect. Triggered. No limit to Passengers  
> -Minor Thinkamancy: confusion, Memory loss  
> -Sense Boosting Spell (Lookamancy?)  
> -Blinding Spell (Lookamancy?)  
> -Low-Power Healomancy


End file.
